


Shelf Life

by Anon_omatopoeia



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:13:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23365984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anon_omatopoeia/pseuds/Anon_omatopoeia
Summary: Some things just weren't made to last.  Sasori begged to differ.
Relationships: Sandaime Kazekage | Third Kazekage/Sasori
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Shelf Life

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to @thatshipcat for letting me reference her incredible headcanons for the Third Kazekage, Sasori and Suna. 
> 
> Set after the start of the 3rd Shinobi War, before Sasori defects, told in 3 parts. Full disclosure: I've written Sasori much softer in this than canon because this is taking place earlier in his life and I don't think he would be irredeemably jaded quite yet. 
> 
> Also, this is entirely self-indulgent and the first thing that I've put out for public consumption, please proceed at your own risk and enjoy!

The Third had spent a significant portion of the last few years in his office, hunched over a dreadful, over-sized ebony desk. The desk was an unnecessary expense meant to convey the illusion of prosperity amidst an ongoing war. He personally thought it decadent and garish, but it had come with the position, a relic of his predecessor’s poor taste. Perhaps one day he would replace it. For now, the amount of effort required was more than he could muster.

He glanced over at the windows lining the curved wall, small circles framing the dusty city beyond.

His office was a quiet place, insulated from the hectic pace and relentless clamor that filled up the hallways outside. Most everything that reached him now had already been screened and scrutinized by his assistants so as not to waste his time with mundane tasks undeserving of his attention.

His tea had gone cold as he stood, leaning against the wall, observing the people on the street below him going about their business and trying to distract himself from the growing list of names that awaited him on that awful desk.

In truth, it took no more than five minutes to review each award and stamp his seal. His assistant had timed him once. Somehow that made it worse.

The last light of the day had disappeared over an hour ago. The city was visible only through the growing number of residential lights breaking up the darkness. He wondered how many of those homes were touched by grief. Everyone had lost someone by now. And all the glory that awaited such a great sacrifice was his own signature on a piece of paper declaring meritorious service and a special spot on an honorable headstone.

A spot right next to hundreds of others who had all given their lives for the same thing in a war that had no end in sight.

He sighed, exasperated.

Returning to his seat, he set to finish his evenings final task, the pile of posthumous decorations on his desk a morose monument to the ongoing casualties of the current conflict. He idly wondered who would sign his when the time came and frowned at his train of thought.

He felt the presence outside of his door before he heard the knock. His ears perked up at the quiet, precise rapping.

“Come in.” He welcomed the intrusion.

The door opened and a young man entered with quick, light steps. It was a face he knew well. Perhaps, better than he should have, given the difference in their age and station.

It belonged to someone who also knew something of the gloom he was currently trying to forget.

Eyes that were warm in color only quickly found his own. He nodded his head in acknowledgement of the newcomer and watched as he returned the gesture with a slightly more pronounced, slightly deeper movement than was considered customary. It was a standard greeting from most; it was more significant from this man, whose respect was not so easily won.

From his desk he observed his guest, letting his eyes study the features he had grown to appreciate more over the last several months. They were delicate and pretty and revealed none of the ruthless and cunning killer that he really was.

Sasori was only eighteen, but he was prone to insights of someone well beyond his years. He had advanced rapidly through the ranks with the sort of cold and quiet professionalism which had earned him the respect of many and the fear of many more. He was reliable as a jounin, and a good candidate for ANBU, should he desire it.

His team had also recently began taking on A-rank assignments. Because of this, it was not entirely insubordinate for him to have a private audience with the Kazekage, unannounced, as he did on that evening.

“Sasori, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He allowed a small smile to tug at his lips as he pushed away the designation forms. The distraction couldn’t be more perfectly timed.

“The pleasure is mine,” he replied fluidly. An uncharacteristically polite remark from the abrupt young team leader, though the sentiment didn’t reach his face.

The Kazekage studied him carefully. His expression hadn’t softened; he still wore the same mask of indifference which he usually did. But there was something he couldn’t place underneath it. The politician in him suspected an ulterior motive.

“I need to discuss the outcome of my recent assignment,” Sasori said. Straight to business, never one to idle with small talk. It was an admirable quality, though tonight, a social call would have been much more appealing.

“You’re early,” the Third noted, suppressing a tired yawn. “Status?”

“I achieved my objective, however, my teammates suffered minor injuries.”

A small frown pulled at the Third’s face. Sasori was here for damage control, then. He felt a twinge of disappointment that _this_ was what had brought Sasori to his office no earlier than 9 o’clock in the evening.

“That’s unfortunate,” the Third replied steadily. “As team leader, you share responsibility for the fate of your teammates.” He echoed the speech he gave all newly promoted team leaders before their first mission. It was fundamental to effective management and Sasori had heard the same from him before.

“I would work better alone,” Sasori retorted. “My teammates are undisciplined and now they are a liability,” he clipped, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Undisciplined?”

“They got between me and the target and were injured in the crossfire. I _did_ warn them,” his tone was distinctly unremorseful.

“Mmm,” he sat back in his chair, considering Sasori’s words. So, the injuries were from friendly fire. That was more problematic. “Be that as it may, it would be unwise to send you out alone,” the Third countered. “If your team is unequipped to carry out the missions assigned to you, then perhaps you should better prepare them,” he eyed the puppeteer critically.

“If my teammates are incapable of engaging in combat without sustaining easily avoidable injuries, then perhaps they were promoted _prematurely_.” Sasori shot back.

The Third raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a sharp glare. Some people required physical punishments or formal letters of reprimand to change their ways. He sincerely hoped that Sasori wasn’t one of them.

Sasori looked as if he were about to say something rude, then caught himself and added in a less argumentative tone, “I have enough to manage on my own. I don’t think that teaching my peers what they should already know is an efficient use of my time. ”

“Do it anyway.” It wasn’t a request.

Regaining his composure at what was clearly a direct order, Sasori straightened himself up and bowed his head in acknowledgement but stubbornly said nothing.

“If that’s all then..” the Kazekage returned his attention to the papers on his desk, not bothering to finish his sentence. Sasori’s defiance had left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn’t have the patience to address it presently.

Sasori hesitated for a moment as he watched the Kazekage scan the paper he was holding. He recognized the dismissal, but this was unacceptable. He was seeking to be relieved of his teammates, not to orchestrate their remediation.

He considered his options. Besides the sound of a pen running over a paper, the Kazekage’s office was completely silent. They had occasionally had one on one meetings before, though he had never felt that they had ever been alone. Tonight, however, there wasn’t another soul left in the whole tower.

Sasori was by no means oblivious to his own beauty, though it was a weapon he rarely employed. Tonight, however, standing in front of the Kazekage’s desk and displeased with the outcome of his debrief, he decided that unconventional tactics were, perhaps, in order.

It wouldn’t be so bad, he told himself. The Third was a handsome man, after all. Actually, Sasori considered him to be exquisite. He liked his sharp cheekbones and his chakra-burned eyes. He liked his body and the way he carried himself. Everything about him projected power and power attracted Sasori.

It was a risky move. If the Third didn’t accept his proposal, the repercussions would likely be severe. He could be court-martialed or worse. He doubted they would strip his rank over something so petty; he was too valuable an asset. Still, there were plenty of ways the Kazekage could make him miserable without removing him from duty.

Actually, the Third hadn’t ever really given Sasori any concrete reason to believe that he would be interested. Yet there was _something_ in the way that their eyes connected; a subtle change in tone that was a little more relaxed, a little more playful, when they were alone. It wasn’t obvious but it gave Sasori the impression that the Kazekage might be willing to humor him.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling into a deceptively coy half-smirk.

“…Is there anything I could do …to change your mind?” His tone was _almost_ suggestive of something other than professional conduct. It didn’t go unnoticed.

The Kazekage promptly looked up at him. His irritation faded when he saw something distinctly different than the apathy he had previously faced looking back at him. A thought flashed through his head that wasn’t entirely proper. _I shouldn’t._

“While I admire your ambition,” The Third’s eyes sparkled with amusement, “I wouldn’t want to distract you from your _many_ responsibilities.” He rolled his pen between his fingers.

Sasori fought the urge to worry his bottom lip, “Maybe,” he took a step forward, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side and letting the fringe of his bangs brush over his cheek, “if you spent less time lecturing me about _my_ responsibilities, you wouldn’t be stuck here so late with your own.” His voice was quiet and teasing, not the irritated tone he had used earlier.

The Third released the paperwork sprawled out in front of him and leaned back in his chair. He allowed his eyes to slowly travel down the lean body in front of him and back up again.

“Careful, Sasori,” he warned, his voice low, “that mouth of yours will get you into trouble.” He _really_ shouldn’t.

“I’m counting on it,” came the instant reply. The Third heard every word, spoken and unspoken and a wave of lust washed over him as he imagined the lengths Sasori would be willing to go to have his way. On his knees, on his back, bent over his desk…

A moment passed where his words hung suspended in the air, unanswered. The Third stared at him, deciding how he should respond. He didn’t take long.

“There are many things that require my attention,” he began, rising from his seat and casting a quick glance at the closed door as he walked around to the front of his desk. With no barrier between them now, he stood in front of the younger man, leaning back against the edge, his attention undivided.

“I would consider your company a welcome distraction,” he searched Sasori’s eyes intently, looking for any signs that he had misread his intent. When he saw none, he continued, “but I can’t agree to allow you to go on missions unaccompanied. It would pose a risk to yourself that I cannot endorse.”

Sasori looked up at him through dark lashes, eyes shining with barely concealed excitement, “A new team, then. One with more competent personnel.”

The Kazekage sensed his increase in heart rate and felt himself beginning to swell with arousal. He reached out to cup the younger man’s hip in his grasp, lightly rubbing his thumb over the bone there.

“Consider it done,” he breathed out.

“Then we have a deal. One night will suffice?” Sasori confirmed, sliding his hands to rest on the Third’s chest while taking the last step to close the gap between them.

“I wouldn’t want to take advantage of your generosity.” His own voice was barely above a whisper as he lifted his other hand to Sasori’s chin and leaned in. He hovered a breath’s distance away, looking down at the beautiful face below him. They both hesitated. This was the last chance to back out. He _really_ shouldn’t let it go this far.

But he wanted to.

The kiss started tentatively, a sampling of what was being offered and what was being asked. But as the taste and the touch and the heat flooded their senses, whatever leash had been keeping them in line before snapped. Unrestrained, hungry hands tangled in hair and blindly clutched at clothing. Sasori hopped up to sit on his desk and opened his legs to fit him firmly in between them.

The friction and the pressure were unimaginably good. He hadn’t realized that it had been so long since he had released himself like this, but everything that they were doing in that moment felt right. He heard Sasori let out a moan when he whispered something vulgar in his ear. Within minutes, the smaller man was holding onto his shoulder for leverage, pushing himself against him and he realized they were both ready to go.

When he felt Sasori’s thin fingers slipping into his pants to disrobe him, however, he forced himself to pause. He himself was no stranger to sex, but he wasn’t sure how experienced Sasori was. There was more than a decade between them, after all. And although it seemed unlikely that a virgin would proposition the Kazekage for sex to requisition a new team, the last strings of rationality told him that before he did something he couldn’t take back (with a subordinate, no less) he better be _damn well_ sure.

He pulled away for a moment, in an attempt to create enough distance for pause, but Sasori just redirected his mouth down to his neck and he couldn’t concentrate.

“Shit,” he exhaled, struggling to remain coherent while receiving such thorough attention, “Wait.”

Sasori looked softer now, panting, lips parted, eyes filled with lust. “What is it?” his voice was breathy and impatient.

The Third tried to collect himself.

“…Are you sure this is what you want?"

But the younger man reached up and buried his hands in his hair, pulling him down to interrupt him with another urgent kiss. Any protest he had at the interruption died in his throat when he felt the younger man pushing the heat between his legs against him.

Sasori separated only once more, to answer him, “Shut up and fuck me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

It turns out that stupid desk was good for something after all. Bribery sex was a hot, rushed mess. Neither of them had bothered to fully undress and at some point the teacup he had forgotten about had fallen and shattered on the floor- collateral damage lost to the heat of the moment. A bad omen on any other day, but tonight it was just and another mess he would have to clean up in the morning.

He knew that the papers he had been avoiding all evening had been shoved off the desk in an effort to spare them from the byproducts of their activities, but he didn’t care. There would be plenty of time to mull over them later.

It was, truly, _heaven_ and it was over too quickly.

He kissed him afterwards, slower and sweeter than before. He was fairly positive that the kiss fell outside their haphazard quid-pro-quo arrangement, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that either.

After they cleaned themselves up and readjusted pants and shirts and hair, he decided that he really wanted this to happen again. So, before he could talk himself out of it, he asked Sasori to accompany him to dinner.

Sasori, for all the boldness and passion he had so willingly put out for him that evening, seemed completely out of his depth in the aftermath. He clearly hadn’t anticipated having to hold a conversation after the ordeal, and he certainly hadn’t expected to be asked out on a date. He had stumbled through their post-coital small talk with a rather endearing mix of incredulity and awkwardness, but he didn’t refuse.

“Oh, and you can call me Tenno when we’re alone. I think we’re beyond formal titles at this point.”

***

Dinner came the following week.

He asked Sasori out to a small kebap shop on a Tuesday evening. It was a strategic selection. He had specifically chosen the middle of the work week to reduce the probability of a chance encounter with coworkers and council members. The location was far enough off the main streets that it wasn’t likely be crowded.

The time of their meeting, 9 o’clock pm, was much later than traditional dining hours, but still early enough to snag a good meal before closing time.

The late hour also allowed him to finish the day’s tasks without departing from routine and, he hoped, would give him enough of a cushion if he was delayed by any last-minute issues. The Third did not need to have slept with the temperamental puppeteer to know that he despised tardiness.

But despite his carefully laid plans to avoid making Sasori wait on him, he arrived at the quietly tucked-away diner exactly eight minutes late.

He would have come a half hour earlier, but he had taken extra time to ensure that his appearance would hold up to Sasori’s aesthetic standards. His clothing was unwrinkled- steam pressed and freshly changed before leaving the office. His hair was voluminous but not unkempt- smoothed over with a few drops of argan oil. His skin was free of imperfections- a mask applied every other day, and a scrub then a serum applied before heading out this evening. And his eyes looked bright and alert- finely lined by dark kohl to contrast their glimmer. He looked handsome, but effortlessly so. It was an illusion he had perfected over decades.

But seeing Sasori standing there, leaning back against the wall outside in the nearly empty street, arms crossed, looking bored, he felt relieved. Their paths hadn’t crossed since their tryst and he had wondered if Sasori would bother to show up at all since he had already received his prized team re-assignment.

“I’m glad you agreed to come out. I was half-expecting you wouldn’t show up,” he greeted, approaching with a half-smile and hands folded casually in the pockets of his jacket.

“If you had been two minutes later, I wouldn’t be here,” Sasori admonished, eyes quickly sweeping over his form from the feet up, coming to rest on his face.

“Hmm. And yet here you are,” he crooned, satisfied with the way Sasori was studying his face, imagining him to be pleased by his beauty. “Forgive me, I wanted to look my best for you.”

Sasori’s eyes focused on his at the excuse and he scowled. “Don’t waste my time over your vanity.” But he didn’t leave, brushing past Tenno to enter the restaurant ahead of him.

The Third bowed his head slightly, “I’m sorry,” he apologized to the back of Sasori’s head, following behind him. “I miscalculated.” Sasori said nothing, though he turned his head slightly over his shoulder to acknowledge him.

They took a seat at a small table in the farthest corner in the back, positioning their chairs to keep line of sight on the door. “I hope you don’t think that I asked you here to renegotiate the terms of our deal. You don’t have to appease me if it doesn’t suit your interest.”

Sasori looked at him across the table, “I thought dinner was _your_ treat...” he said pointedly before scanning the menu for the most expensive item.

“That it is,” he laughed. A genuine smile worked its way to his face. “Is it all working out for you, then?” He asked, referring to the new team arrangement.

“So far,” Sasori replied, looking up as a server approached and took their orders, leaving a pot of tea for them and pouring each a cup. Tenno waited until she left back to the kitchen before continuing their conversation.

Licking his lips, he set out to clear the air between them, “I want you to know, that I don’t make a habit out of accepting bribes.”

Sasori looked at him skeptically, raising a single eyebrow, “So, you’re not really a corrupt politician, except the one time you actually were.”

“Precisely,” he said, his eyes narrowed in interest as he leaned forward and picked up his tea, letting the heat from the cup warm his hands, “The temptation was too much to resist.”

Sasori’s eyes drifted to Tenno’s fingers, interlaced around the small, ceramic mug that he hadn’t bothered to drink from yet. His nails were neatly filed and free from dirt, he noted with approval. “Do you regret it?” he questioned carefully, raising his own cup and taking a sip.

“No, not at all,” Tenno answered without hesitation, eyes fixated on Sasori’s mouth then throat as he swallowed his tea. “Honestly I’m more disappointed with myself for not upping the ante. If I had known how much fun we could have together, I would have demanded more.”

A light flush appeared on Sasori’s pale skin which he considerately declined to mention. Sasori took another, larger sip, avoiding his gaze. Instead, he directed his attention outwards, towards the door as he replied, voice just above a whisper, “If you feel cheated, we could revisit the terms of our agreement…”

It was all the encouragement that the Third needed to try again. “That won’t be necessary,” he leaned closer, “a deal is a deal. Though, if you _want_ me to take you again, you need only ask.”

The tremor in his hand was answer enough.

The rest of dinner passed by quickly.

They couldn’t be obvious, not where others could see them. So instead their meal was filled with ‘accidental’ strokes of their fingers reaching for salt or refilling glasses at the same time to the tune of ‘oh, how careless of me’.

By a quarter past ten they were tangled in the Kazekage’s sheets relieving all the tension that had built up over the past week.

***

After the third time they ended up together, at the Kazekage’s home two weeks later, it became evident that a pattern was emerging.

Lying side by side on his bed, trying to catch their breath and cool down over-heated skin under the ceiling fan, the Third decided it was time to figure out just what Sasori wanted from him.

“You know, you’ve been to my home twice now and if I’m correct about tonight, you’ll likely be back here again before the month is over.”

Sasori’s head turned to look at him through the side of his eye, “ _You_ invited me. What’s your point?”

Tenno laughed at Sasori’s defensiveness, “I just want,” he rolled onto his side to face the younger man, “to make sure that I don’t disappoint you. My title carries certain expectations that extend to my personal life. I don’t want to mislead you,” he propped his head up on his hand.

This was the price for his office. His private life wasn’t really private and in turn, some people felt that this entitled them to give unsolicited advice about how he should conduct himself. Specifically, they had gently suggested he find a wife. He was nearly thirty now. He suspected that their ‘suggestions’ would become far less courteous when the war ended. A problem for another day.

“I’ve heard.” Sasori turned as well, so that they were now face-to-face. “If I intended to blackmail you, I wouldn’t have slept with you three times to do it. Your secret is safe.”

Tenno exhaled a humored breath at Sasori’s deduction about which expectations he was referring to. “I don’t doubt your intentions, dear,” he smiled at the way Sasori’s face crinkled at the pet name, “though your discretion _is_ necessary. I have evaded the council’s attempts to facilitate my marriage for a while now. If I start flaunting our relations in front of others, it could be perceived as disregard for my obligations. Our activities could be used to undermine my authority,” his brow furrowed.

Sasori watched him carefully, “When will you get married?”

“When I finally run out of excuses. As long as this war drags on, I can stretch my freedom a bit longer.”

“I’ll be careful, then.”

Tenno reached out to pull Sasori closer to him, “Good.”

***

Of course, it was easier not to make mistakes when their time together was infrequent and sporadic. It was becoming considerably more difficult six months later when Sasori was spending the night at least once a week.

Tenno hadn’t expected their little office romance to last as long it had, but he wasn’t complaining. Sasori was his respite; a much-needed distraction from the pressures and decisions that he was forced to make every day. And he was easy to please.

Sasori wasn’t one for small talk; often their time together was spent in companionable silence or else urgent vocalizations. But _every_ moment that they had alone, in bed or out of it, Sasori was touching him in some way. Physical contact was their primary means of communication, whether it was sexual or not, and Tenno was fluent.

So, when he was sprawled across a couch in his private residence on a rare day off, back to the armrest and legs stretched out across the cushions, he wasn’t alone. Sasori was leaned back against his chest, resting his slender legs against Tenno’s more muscled ones. They were reading, each engrossed in their own books, together but separate. The Third absent-mindedly ran his fingers through the unnaturally bright red hair of his lover, resting his cheek against the top of his head and letting the soft curls there tickle his nose.

“You know, at some point it might be easier to just bring some of your things here. You’re over often enough.”

Sasori lowered his book and turned his head to get a look at the Third’s face.

“Do you think your guard has noticed?” the young jounin had made an effort to conceal his coming and going, however, with the sheer number of times he had made the trip, it was only a matter of time before someone caught on.

“They wouldn’t be much of a guard if they didn’t,” a wry smile reached the Third’s lips. “There are rumors that I fancy you,” he whispered against his ear, eliciting a slight flush.

It was, however, the truth. He had received an unannounced visit from a council member earlier that week, as a matter of fact, informing him of such. He hadn’t denied it.

“Maybe I should I be over less,” the lithe form in his arms conceded.

The Third closed the book he was no longer reading and sighed.

“That is quite literally the opposite of what I am suggesting. Let them talk, they have bigger things to worry about now than who I’m sleeping with. We all do.”

“But your reputation with the council-“

“-that was before things escalated with Konoha’s involvement. Darling,” he sighed, as his hand came up to cradle the side of Sasori’s neck, feeling the small man relax, “these moments are rare enough as it is, let’s not waste them worrying over things beyond our control.”

He leaned down to plant a slow kiss on his lips. A shameless attempt at coaxing away his insecurities.

As usual, it didn’t stop at one. Another successful distraction.

***

And it _was_ a distraction.

Sasori was correct about the council.

Behind closed doors the council found the time to care and give Tenno grief over his extracurricular activities. They lectured him that if he had time to entertain a lover he had time to entertain a wife. They scolded him that his cousin Rasa, who was younger than him, had already married and was expecting his first child.

But the Kazekage defended himself well.

He argued that Rasa had known and courted his wife for years before their marriage. He told them that he didn’t equate a fling to a spouse and that it wasn’t reasonable to expect him to divest the time and energy to establish a meaningful relationship during a time of war. He argued that what he was doing was purely stress relief and assured them of his continued discretion.

This they had accepted.

***

Three months later, though, he was doubting that anything he had told the council was true. In spite of his best effort not to become invested in a relationship that would never work, he sometimes found himself wishing that there was some way that it could.

Sasori wasn’t naïve to the obligations of the Kazekage (and all Sunan citizens unfortunate enough to harbor a bloodline limit). Tenno had mentioned his inevitable marriage only once, but Sasori had understood immediately that his failure to revisit the subject didn’t mean he wasn’t thinking about it.

It hadn’t seemed like a big deal when they had only been interested in satiating their lust. It was becoming a bigger deal now that they seemed to be spending more time wrapped up in something else. Something heavier and warmer and much more dangerous.

Nights like tonight, didn’t help.

They sat huddled together, under a blanket on his roof, soaking in the crisp evening air and looking up at the sea of stars above them. It was a beautiful evening and so it seemed out of place. The kind of evening that made it easy to forget that the world was in violent upheaval at times like this. The kind that couldn’t last.

The silence that enveloped them wasn’t wrought with tension; it was peaceable. It fell upon them without much effort as Sasori listened to the tempo of Tenno’s steady breathing beside him.

Sasori let out a soft exhale. “How long are we going to keep doing this?” he asked tiredly, letting his head rest against Tenno’s shoulder.

His arm came up reflexively to pull Sasori closer, eyes still staring up at the abyss above them. “Until it stops working,” he sighed.

That wasn’t much of an answer.

“… nothing lasts forever...,” Tenno added wistfully, finally looking down to place a gentle kiss atop Sasori’s head.

“Do you think you’ll miss me?” Sasori asked him without looking up. He felt a chill run through him, but the wind hadn’t picked up.

Frowning, Tenno chose his words carefully. “I think it’s pointless to try and predict the future. I’m here with you now, let that be enough.” He didn’t want to hurt him, but he knew better than to comfort him with lies. Sasori wouldn’t appreciate it anyways. Best to be direct and avoid making promises he wouldn’t be able to keep.

“… I’ve never wanted anyone like this…” Sasori admitted so quietly that he almost missed it.

Tenno said nothing. He felt himself tense at what he thought Sasori might have meant by making such a statement to him.

The silence returned, although he could tell that it had shifted. It didn’t feel like the companionable air that it had been before. It was heavy and metered; waiting for words that should have been there but weren’t. He saw Sasori grow distant even in his arms. Tenno had no doubt that his mind was off venturing to some distant future that hadn’t yet come to pass.

Trying to salvage the moment and bring Sasori back to him, he leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Don’t worry, darling, you’ll be over and done with me by then.”

The action seemed to snap him out of whatever reverie he had been lost in. It took him a moment to register exactly what Tenno had actually said.

“Hmm, probably,” Sasori snorted.

“I’ve been told I’m quite the handful…,” Tenno shrugged, feigning innocence.

“ _That’s_ generous,” Sasori retorted snarkily.

“I mean, I’m intelligent,… handsome,… strong,…. good in bed...,” Tenno ticked off what he thought were his best features on his fingers, soaking up Sasori’s judgement with a sly smirk.

“And humble,” Sasori added for him, rolling his eyes.

“That too,” he nodded his head once emphatically in agreement, “But even so, I think you could do better.”

“Undoubtedly,” Sasori concurred.

Tenno laughed loudly, shaking them both. His mood was considerably lightened, but he felt Sasori bury his head into the crook of his neck and his own hold on the smaller man tightened.

***

By the time Sasori’s 20th birthday came around, they still hadn’t let go. It had been a year and a half since they had first started their illicit affair and the war wasn’t close to resolution.

When the Kazekage had continued to dodge the councils attempts to force him into choosing a wife, the more ambitious among them had decided that perhaps going directly to the source of the issue would be more effective. The first time, Sasori had been alone in his workshop when he was approached by junior council member Taisa.

He had expected some kind of complaint about his recent innovations regarding the use of enemy corpse parts for human puppet prototypes. The same kind that Chiyo had fought him and ultimately exiled herself over. He had evaded the criminal justice system at the time because Komushi had already perished and he agreed not to convert any more of Suna’s citizens into his creations. Enemy soldiers, however, were fair game.

He had _not_ expected to be questioned about his loyalty to Suna or whether he felt that he was beyond reproach simply because he was ‘fucking the Kazekage’ as Taisa had so _politely_ phrased it. He had been warned that his behavior was unbecoming of a soldier of his rank and that it would not be forgotten that he had obstructed the Kazekage from fulfilling his duties. That if he didn’t cease his involvement with the other man immediately or if he tried to run to the Kazekage to report the council, he would find himself in prison or else under it before anyone was the wiser.

Unfortunately for Taisa, trying to intimidate the head of the Puppet Corps was ill advised on the best of days. Sasori would never rely on Tenno to solve his problems for him, and he was furious at the implication that he would do so. Never mind the actual threat to his career over a private relationship. He handled it himself, quietly and efficiently.

One broken arm and threat of full dismemberment later, Taisa retreated to seek medical attention and Sasori told him that if they ever crossed paths again, Taisa had better run. He neglected to mention that the same blow that had broken Taisa’s arm had introduced a toxin in him system which would permanently damage the nerve tissue; the medics would take care of the break, but he wouldn’t ever lift that arm against Sasori again.

Sasori had been unexpectedly merciful to Taisa though, and that bothered him. He should have killed him. Under Suna’s penal code he would have had impunity. The council wouldn’t publicly be able to admit that they had sent a representative to attack him over his relationship. But he hadn’t wanted to create unnecessary trouble for Tenno and invite more scrutiny on their personal lives.

He questioned the leadership structure of the village that allowed a junior council member to confront him over such a matter without the consent of the Kazekage. In his mind, it was a gross abuse of power and a clear overstep of authority. And yet it would go officially unpunished. Besides the Kazekage, there was no one who could stand up to the council. And when they went behind the Kazekage’s back…. Well. There was no contingency for that. It simply wasn’t supposed to happen.

It seemed to the powers that be, they were little more than pawns. And even the most powerful among them, was at least in part, valued for his ability to propagate the next generation. A steady supply of fuel for whatever conflicts the future held. And there he was, mucking up their plans by having the nerve to distract the Kazekage with a body that couldn’t give him children. Was he really worth so little that his life was forfeit over that?

Sasori wondered if when Tenno was done with him, there would still be a place for him in the village of his birth. He wondered if he even wanted there to be.

These thoughts filled his head as he slipped in the back door of what had become his home away from home. He had returned from patrol two hours ago, and considered coming straight over, but he today he had decided to take a detour.

Sasori didn’t celebrate his birthday with others. It wasn’t something that he considered worth celebrating because, really, it was a time for people to spend with their friends and family and there was only one person whom he considered close enough to call a friend. But that was complicated, and he wasn’t about to ask him for something so childish when he was sure they would both rather avoid the fuss.

So that afternoon, when he got off duty, he had treated himself to a visit to the baths for pampering. It was the type of thing that he appreciated but rarely got to indulge in. Today, however, he made the time. To finish the evening, Tenno had invited him over for dinner, completely oblivious to the significance of the date. Sasori figured it would be the perfect end to his day, whether it was intentional or not.

Unbeknownst to Sasori, the Third had been meticulously planning this evening for _weeks_. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Sasori deliberately avoided the topic of his own birthday. At first, he thought that it just hadn’t passed yet or else maybe it had passed shortly after they had started seeing each other, when they were still testing things out.

But after a full year had gone by and Sasori still hadn’t made any mention of it (even after he had gifted Tenno a beautiful jeweled brooch on his 31st birthday) he began to suspect that it wasn’t just a coincidence. Sasori seemed to be under the mistaken impression that if he didn’t bring it up, Tenno wouldn’t notice.

He was incorrect.

Tenno had sneakily tried to extract it once by making some off-hand comment about their age difference, purposely underestimating Sasori’s age to bait him into revealing it. He had casually thrown out some comment about how he was lucky he had the stamina to keep up with an eighteen-year-old. As expected, Sasori had corrected him, informing him that he was actually nineteen. However, he had been evasive when questioned further about the details.

So, curiosity piqued, Tenno had _slightly_ abused his position as the Kazekage to pull his file and look up his birthday. _He’s a Scorpio? How fitting._ And then he had waited patiently for November to arrive.

He wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to make up for missing the date last year or if he was looking for an excuse to spoil him after a miserable string of combat-heavy missions, but he decided that he would make this day a special one.

When Sasori slipped through the back door, pausing briefly to secure it behind him, the first thing he noticed was that it was dark. Usually Tenno left the light on for him when he was expected over.

When he entered the main living area, though, he was momentarily stunned. The entire room was lit by hundreds of small tea lights, each emanating a soft, warm glow. The table was set with a variety of sweet and savory dishes laid out on several fancy serving plates (the _fine_ china) and one expensive-looking bottle of sake.

“Whoa,” actually slipped from his mouth before he had time to catch himself.

Sasori stood, awestruck and mouth slightly agape at the lavish spread in front of him when he felt Tenno come up behind him, resting hands on his hips and chin on his shoulder.

“Happy Birthday,” the Third’s deeper voice rumbled against his ear. The vibrations sent shivers down his spine.

He watched Sasori’s profile carefully from the corner of his eye before placing a kiss upon his cheek. Sasori blinked.

“You looked it up, didn’t you?” it was more of a statement than a question.

Tenno gave him a sheepish half-smile. “You smell divine. Is that lavender?” he asked breathing in the scent of Sasori’s hair and dodging the question.

“Come on, the food’s getting cold,” he gently guided Sasori towards the table, hand resting on the small of his back.

***

They spent most of their meal in silence and the food was, as expected, delicious. He had ordered out for most of it. He simply didn’t have time to make an entire spread. But Sasori had been pleasantly surprised to learn that he had made the manti himself.

Against his better judgement, Sasori indulged in the sake that Tenno had selected for their dinner. He didn’t usually partake- he didn’t like losing control. It wasn’t easy for someone of Sasori’s stature to stay sober when he imbibed, so he found it best to avoid drinking all together. But nothing about the evening had been anything like what he had envisioned and tonight, he made an exception.

By the time they had finished their meal and Sasori had finished his second cup, he was wondering why he didn’t do this more often. He leaned forward to accept a bite of baklava which his lover had so considerately offered him from his hand and watched Tenno’s eyes, glued to him as he carefully chewed and swallowed the sweet treat.

When he finished, Tenno ran his thumb across his bottom lip, sweeping up the crumbs there like a mother would her small child. And he was still fixated on Sasori’s lips when Sasori brazenly leaned forward and engulfed the whole digit into his mouth. Gold eyes flicked up to his own as he sucked every bit of honey off of every bit of finger, withdrawing his mouth in one excruciatingly slow motion, an audible pop sounding as the tip passed his lips.

An open invitation.

But Tenno wasn’t taking it. At least, not yet. Sasori’s advances were rejected, albeit gently when the Kazekage stroked his cheek once, then politely excused himself. 

He couldn’t understand why Tenno was resisting him so much. He got his answer when seconds later when he returned carrying a small box wrapped in a beautiful floral print and tied with a piece of twine. 

Sasori was stunned for the second time that evening. The last time he had received a birthday gift from anyone was from his grandmother on his fifteenth birthday. She had given him foxglove seeds and hollow point senbon. It was useful and despite his dislike for her, she knew what he needed. A good gift.

Carefully unwrapping the box, he pondered what kind of equipment Tenno might have procured for him, his own interest blinding him to Tenno’s anxious fidgeting. He lifted the lid, peering inside, and froze.

A set of gorgeous lapis earrings gleamed up at him. He stared, motionless for a moment, before carefully lifting them out of the box to inspect them.

“Jewelry?” he asked. Perplexed, but not offended.

“…Do you like them?” Tenno asked him, his voice wasn’t the confident commanding force that it usually was. This tone was reserved for something far more delicate than dispatching orders.

Sasori 's eyes hadn't left the deep blue studs. Jewelry wasn’t practical. It wouldn’t help him on missions, it wouldn’t make him poisons or outfit his puppets, and it wouldn’t clothe him in any way that mattered. It wasn’t a gift for a soldier. It was tangible proof that there was more between them than the formality observed between a commander and his troops.

Sasori found it hard to remind himself that none of it mattered.

“They’re beautiful….”

“Then they’ll suit you well.”

He looked up at the complement, overcome with some strange sinking feeling in his chest. He couldn’t explain it. It should have pleased him. It should have been a happy moment, receiving a gift meant solely to charm him. But it wasn’t.

Instead, he felt as though he had stumbled upon a moment meant for someone else. That this kind of effort was wasted on someone like him. That this was a kindness that was for people who were cherished. And he was terrified to admit why that last thought made his throat feel tight.

Tenno was taken aback. He studied the man in front of him, trying to determine whether the disappointment he saw on Sasori’s face was because the gift was too much, because it wasn’t enough, or because of something else entirely.

He had planned to surprise him. In his mind, he had imagined Sasori shocked and flattered. Maybe even annoyed that he had gone to such effort. Nowhere in his plans had he anticipated legitimately upsetting him. Internally, he panicked at his misstep.

His mind was frantically concocting ways to fix his error when he felt Sasori’s hands in his hair, pulling him down to meet him with a kiss that said all the things that Sasori couldn’t. Then his mind stopped thinking at all.

It wasn’t like anything he had ever received from the younger man before. It felt _different_. A mixture of gratitude and sorrow and something else that he hesitated to give a name to. All of this conveyed through the passion of his kiss; pushing fiercely against him and pulling him down, then easing to leave a slow, soft imprint on his lips that lingered when they parted. It left his head spinning.

He wanted more. His own hands found themselves in Sasori’s hair, and his mouth found its match, demanding more contact. It made his pulse race and the rest of his body ache with hunger. When they separated, it was for need of oxygen.

He looked down through half-lidded eyes to see Sasori looking back up at him in shock, as if he had just discovered some wonderful secret. His chocolate eyes were searching his own and none of the barriers that usually obscured his true feelings were in place. Tenno saw it all, unguarded: disbelief, hope, adoration. Fear.

He marveled at his beauty in the candlelight; the soft orange tones in the dimly lit room enough to illuminate Sasori’s pale skin and ruby-colored hair against the surrounding darkness. It took his breath away.

And it was precisely at that moment that the Kazekage realized that he was in trouble. 

“Tenno-,” Sasori started to speak.

“Nadir.”

Sasori looked up at him, brow furrowed in confusion.

“My name, my _real_ name, is Nadir,” he confessed quietly. He didn’t need to tell Sasori that this was another secret to be kept between them or that his disclosure was as much an act of trust as it was an expression of intimacy. If it had been necessary to explain either of these things, then he wouldn’t have shared it with him. That was why he knew the significance of his admission would not be missed.

“Nadir,” Sasori said delicately, testing it out on his tongue. He missed the look that passed over the Third’s face when he spoke it, but he felt the grip on his waist tighten. “…Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
